Page 1 of Covert Affairs

One

Dunlin Federal Maximum Security Prison - Black Site

“You must have pulledsome big strings to get in here.” Dr. Genevieve Montgomery, devoid of makeup and dressed in a drab gray prison uniform, looked as though she had aged ten years since Beatrice had last seen her. Her once long, silky hair had been buzzed off, her previously perfect nails were chewed down to the quick. “You have bigger balls than I believed.”

Beatrice’s skin prickled, feeling the eyes of the prison on her. The clock was ticking as she considered what to say to her former NSA psychologist. “I’ll make this fast. You want out of here and I can make that happen.”

Even though her hard brown eyes showed no emotion, the doctor seemed to zero in on Beatrice a bit more. Reading her. Analyzing.

The head of Shadow Force International knew that the highly intelligent psychologist was walking through her mind palace, searching for something to understand why Beatrice was there. Checking behind doors, investigating corners.

Beatrice wondered if she’d had to erect new sections, using her imagination to fill them with trees, waterfalls, and birds. The good doctor had always been able to separate ugly reality into something more palpable in order to keep her own mental health strong and fortified. She had compartments inside of compartments in her brain. “If you’re here about Berlin and what happened that night—”

Beatrice leaned forward slightly, allowing her own eyes to reveal that she had Genevieve's best interests at heart. “You don’t belong here. Your talents are being wasted, and while I get your reasons for staying mute on what happened, I don’t believe the reports.”

Nothing about the woman changed. She was the ultimate statue, showing no emotion. Totally detached.

At NSA, she had needed to be that way in order to deal with the patients she counseled. She’d been so good at her job; Homeland had insisted she be loaned out to the CIA and then to the military. Her patients ranged from SEALs and undercover agents to the President. She’d become a repository of covert identities, field operations, and secrets. That’s why she was an expert at compartmentalizing, including the situations in her own life.

“My freedom in exchange for what?” The coffee colored eyes subtly scrutinized Beatrice’s face. Evaluating the mask she wore. “Nothing comes without a price.”

She tried to remain an open book—not easy to do when she, herself, was always guarded. “I need you.” She wasn’t used to saying those words. Even though the watch on her wrist was silent as the seconds passed, her ears seemed to ring with thetick tick tickof the second hand. Her five minutes we’re now down to three. “Here’s what I’m offering—I’ll get you out of here tonight. My only request is that you give me fifteen minutes of your freedom in return.”

The eyes narrowed at the corners. “You can’t break me out of a maximum security prison.”

Two and a half minutes. “Who said it was a jailbreak?”

Genevieve’s lips firmed. “The only way I’m getting out of here is in a body bag.”

Beatrice smiled. “No one has ever broken out of this place. I’d be a fool to try it, and you’d be a fool to accept such an offer.”

“Is that what you told Mick Ranger before you rescued him?”

Tick tick tick. How did Vivi know about Ranger? Someone was feeding her intel through her iron bars. “Do we have a deal? I give you my word, all I want is fifteen minutes.”

“A deal that’s too good to be true?” She took a slow breath, as if sensing Beatrice was in a hurry and wanting to antagonize her. “Why should I accept?”

“You obviously know what I can do, what strings I can pull, the favors I can call in. You have a choice—stay here and rot, or take a risk and go see a waterfall for real again. I’ll even make sure you get your pet birds back.”

Genevieve's gaze darted toward the camera in the corner. Her fingers twitched. It was the mention of her beloved pets that finally got a response. “I leave these walls and I become a target.”

She was down to a minute. “I won’t lie and say that isn’t true, but as you can see, I’ve made the target on my back extremely small and hard to hit. I will do the same for you.”

Keys jangled on the other side of the door. The guard stuck one in the lock, the metal grinding. The briefest of emotions once more crossed Vivi’s face—fear, dismay. “I can’t.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “If they find out you helped me, you know what my freedom will cost not only me, but you and everyone you love.”

She stood as the female guard entered and announced, “Time’s up.”

“Midnight.” Beatrice tapped a finger on the table once. “Don’t ever worry about me and mine. Do what’s best for you, Holmes.”

Vivi flinched at the nickname. As the guard led her away, her leg cuffs rattled. She tossed a glance over her shoulder.

Beatrice winked at her.Be ready, she mouthed.Midnight.

Leaving a few minutes later, after crossing through dozens of doors and checkpoints, Beatrice breathed a sigh of relief. The autumn air was crisp and cool, nothing like that of the despair and demoralizing lockup behind her.

Cal put the nondescript sedan into reverse and backed out of the parking lot. “Did she go for it?”

Her husband’s words held more tension than she’d anticipated. She stuck her nails under the edge of the carefully constructed and lifelike mask she wore, peeling it from her skin. Another sigh of relief.

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